


And I'd Give It All Up Just To Do It Again

by thwga



Category: Homestuck
Genre: post scratch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-09
Updated: 2012-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-29 07:15:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/317141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thwga/pseuds/thwga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave Strider has grown up with a strange longing for things he has no real interest in. He's tried to forget about them, but to no avail. So he lives his life trying not to let them control him. When he's in college, he finds a baby and a few things fall into place. All it takes to clear up everything about Dave's life is sixteen years and a game he never knew he played.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And Everything Is Going To The Beat

Your name is Dave Strider and you've recently turned ten. Your interests involve many things such as being an amateur rapper, starting a wonderfully terrible comic, and becoming obsessed with really awful movies you can't seem to muster up the ability to enjoy, even ironically. You aren't entirely sure why you watch all these horrendous action movies so much. It's not for any real entertainment, but you somehow feel bound to watch them. They're important, in some way you don't understand. It doesn't really help that you have a strange urge to want to own every Nic Cage movie in existence and watch them until they become a part of you. You tend to resist these urges, though, and have yet to watch any movie containing this particular actor. Instead, you plop down and start playing some ill beats while you practice rapping. Someday you'll be the fucking best. For a while, you just focus on that and ignore the strange urges of interests that aren't yours. It's nice- to pretend you don't have them. That way you can feel normal.

You are Dave Strider and you are now thirteen. You failed to resist the urge of watching Nicholas Cage movies and now have a collection going. It's strange, though. You have no willing desire to ever want to watch or even to admit to owning these movies. Something about them just seems so damn important. Even so, it's not just movies anymore. You find yourself intrigued in big, white fluffy dogs, pumpkins, and even knitting needles. If you have to guess, you'd say it has to do with this feeling invested in odd objects seems to grow every year. You can't really describe this thing. It's like you're having this dream, a dream so great and realistic that you may or may not prefer it to reality. When you sleep, the dream and all the memories along with it fall perfectly into place, but upon awakening everything vanishes. Yet you dream the same dream over and over. Sometimes you can remember little tidbits, but they never add up to mean anything. You get some weird sensation when you wake up that something huge is missing from your life. It makes your heart heavy and weary like there's just something so tragic about not having whatever in your life anymore. On those mornings, it takes you a while to get out of bed and get on with your life. It's like that simply because you lie there trying to remember anything, anything at all and nothing comes and it leaves you with the worst feeling of all: failure.  
Sometimes you wonder if this feeling will ever go away, this feeling of being incomplete. You have your shell of you, of Dave Strider coating the top but inside is hollow and empty. Inside of you there is a void you realize you've been trying to fill with things. You've tried throwing all those movies away, or the knitting needles you've collected over time. You once became so wound up over these interests you can't control, these things that aren't you in any way, that the pumpkin in your room almost met its fate on the sidewalk beside your apartment building yesterday. You saved it, though. You saved it just like you did the movies and the knitting supplies. After it was pulled safely inside from hanging in your hands out the window, you cuddled it to you and cried like you had almost killed an old friend.  
Sometimes you're scared of what this is doing to you. It has scared you to just think of never finding any answers and being stuck with these compulsions you can't handle for the rest of your life. You don't want to live like this, never knowing just what you need, what you're looking for and you think you'd rather die several times before being stuck with that fate.

You're fifteen now. In the past few years, more things have been added to the list of your obsessions. Recently, time has become a huge one. You can't go anywhere without knowing the time or carrying your expensive new phone. It was the only thing you wanted besides a new setup for your turntables. Not to say there weren't other things you really wanted to ask for, but those were part of your obsessions and you would not allow your own true interests to be overrode by something like that.  
(but they are theyre taking over your life you cant do anything for you anymore youre always searching and scanning the crowd but for what )  
Sometimes you catch yourself staring at people. In an instant you feel so light, like whatever is wrong with you is healing just by seeing them and then you get a better look and suddenly your mood sinks so low you feel like you're drowning in heartache and depression. Other times, you find yourself thinking of little jokes. They're like inside jokes between best friends that you are and are not in on at the same time. Sort of how just yesterday you saw some review of a shitty wizard game coming out and all you could think was "gonna write slash about this lalonde?"  
You don't know anyone with the name Lalonde.  
Those feelings that started gnawing at you back then? It's a pit inside of you now. The void opened up and dragged away more of you into it. It's like your dream - information wells up in there, but you have no access to it. You only know what you remember from the dream, but all of it is so ridiculous it's crazy. You've seen a man in almost all white with a hat and these weird shades before.  
Now that you think about it, it strikes as odd you that you've never felt compelled to look for him. Although, you can't wonder about the man for too long before you find that you’ve turned into a sobbing mess. Just tears dripping from your eyes and it feels like someone has stabbed you in the chest because he just means so much to you. You have no idea why, and it feels like a part of you in that void has died.  
You've decided thinking of him obviously isn't the best idea.  
Instead, you go back to making shitty webcomics after removing all traces of tears. You log onto pesterchum, searching and waiting for the right person to show up.  
(You already know you'll never find this person, or these people, or any of the things you suppose you're trying to find. This doesn't stop you, though. Hope hasn't died yet.)


	2. And Then Last Night I Had A Strange Dream, Where Everything Was Exactly How It Seemed

Your name is Dave Strider, you're nineteen and attending the nearby community college. It may be somewhat of a walk, but it's cool. You can handle that. Right now you were on your way to pay rent for your apartment. Thomas, your landlord, would finally stop yelling at you for waiting to pay until the last moment. Feeling the teensiest bit relieved about not having to deal with him and his screaming fits again, you realize something’s off. The streets have never been this empty, you’re pretty sure. There must have been something going on today because this neighborhood isn't too far from downtown. Usually there are at least several cars driving by and kids hanging out on apartment stoops. Today, no one is out, no one is driving by you, and it's starting to freak you out. As normal, you don't let it show. They're all busy or inside or something. Yeah, that's it. Don't be stupid, Strider.

You didn't realize that you'd stopped walking until now. You shake your head and almost start walking again but oh my god what the fuck is that!? Jumping back, you press as close to the side of the brick building as you can. Your arm is raised and shielding your eyes from the impact of whatever the fuck that was. A minute passes, then two. Your arm is slowly lowered to your side when nothing else happens.

Smoke is drifting up from a giant crater in the ground. Carefully, you move closer and closer, trying to see just what’s down there. Holy fucking shit. There’s a meteor and a small baby sitting on it like nothing's weird about any of this. Just holy shit. There is a baby on that fucking thing! Without thinking, your feet are hitting the cracked pavement. Hardly any time has passed before you’re holding the baby, his tiny hands clenched into little fists gripping your shirt. You stare at the meteor for a good two minutes before absconding back to your apartment. Thomas would just have to get the fuck over it and yell at you again.

Back home, your chest is pounding just from being plain frightened the fuck out of your mind. You aren't entirely sure what the hell just happened back there. The baby in your arms is clinging to your front, nestled close and it seems he may even be asleep. Moving across the room, you look out your window and everything appears normal on this street. Kids are sitting on stoops with their friends and cars are going down the road as usual. If only you could see what’s going on a few streets over. You decide maybe none of this will ever make sense and just move to sit down on the couch. Right now you’re just trying to move slowly so as not to disturb the baby; your head is already pounding and a screaming baby would just frustrate you even more so. He doesn't cry when he wakes up, though. Instead his tiny eyes blink open and that’s when you realize this baby has on tiny little shades.

(a man flashes through your mind and suddenly the void inside of you spews up information into your mind so quickly you just thought you had a headache earlier and oh god hes raising you, teaching you how to spin turntables, youre against him in strife on the roof and then-

and then hes lying on the ground dead dead dead dead oh my god bro no bro please dont you cant

bro please i still need you but he wont get up no matter how much you shake him or yell and his blood is pooling around his body and its on your hands and arms and knees and your chest too when you wrap your arms around him as best as you can sobbing and feeling his body losing its warmth and you feel like you cant take it anymore and - )

You are Dave Strider, in your living room sitting on a couch with a baby in your lap and tears are everywhere. Your one free hand rubs at your eyes repeatedly but it doesn't stop more from falling. The little baby in your lap (oh god bro its you isnt it oh my god you're alive and here and a baby but youre here and alive and no dont cry please dont cry too) decides not to listen to your internal pleas and his face scrunches up. Tears leak from his tiny eyes like water running from a faucet and he's waving his tiny fists around to show you just how upset he is. Pain is pounding heavily against your skull, tears are still dripping from your own eyes, and you smile. You remember him; you remember your bro and while it's not everyone, it's a start and you’ll gladly take it.

You quiet the baby down and hold him as gently as you can in your arms. You aren't sure what you're going to do with a baby in college, but it's okay. Bro did it, and if he can do that and raise you while simultaneously being the most amazing brother in this -or any - universe, then you can do the same for him. You're going to be okay. You can do this, you can. You're going to continue school, but it'll take longer. That's perfectly fine with you.

You've waited for years for any kind of answer, and Bro is probably the best thing in your life right now. One of the gaping holes inside of you has closed. Sure, there’s still a lot you don’t remember. In a way, that doesn't even matter anymore. It doesn't matter because you've got your brother and it was always just you and him. Your mind suggets others of great importance, but you know Bro was always number one to you. And now you have him back. It can be you two again, just you two Striders against the world and everything will be okay and alright from here on out.

You can be his hero just like he was yours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taking a little while to get to work on these, it's just a very busy time right now! I should be able to update again (hopefully tomorrow) and if I do, I'll probably just go ahead and finish cleaning up all of the chapters and putting them up at the same time. If not, I'll get to it sometime next week.   
> But!! I really love this week. Today we had another half day and god if those aren't the best!! Tomorrow'll be another full day, but we're done with finals and everything and the only class i have to do anything in would be fourth, and it's a presentation. Nbd, no one's gonna really be there, anyways. Oh well. Franny's life in these notes.   
> I hope you guys like this chapter and thanks for reading!! uvu


	3. You Were So Misunderstood Back Then

It's been about two years since that meteor crashed down. You heard about it in the news, but no one could ever figure it out. The story was abandoned and the area fixed once they decided it was just an unexpected crash. You prefer it that way. Your now-little Bro is clinging onto your leg and smacking you with his toy horse. He's basically screeching at you right now, trying to hinder your movements in any way he can. Damn this kid hates baths.

He wouldn't have had to take his bath yet if he hadn't kept on hitting the container of apple juice. Who knew shitty fake swords could do so much damage and leave tiny little brothers dripping with apple juice. Although it took a while before the little man would calm down enough, you finally get him in there and squeaky clean just in time for bed. He's already trying to hide his drowsiness; his little head will slowly lean down and then pop right back up. You make sure to be looking in another direction right before he catches himself starting to doze. You know he'd hate it if he thought he couldn't hold up to the same ‘Strider standards’ you hold yourself to. In all honesty, it doesn’t really matter whether he does. You’re just glad to have him at all.

After helping Bro slip into his onesie, you swing him up and hold him above your head for a moment before sitting him on your shoulders. He loves when you do that, and you know so because he giggles and his tiny hands weave into your hair.

Suddenly you're five again and Bro swings you up high into the air and you end up standing on his shoulders, his hands holding yours to make sure you're steady. Oh man, this is the best. You're so tall right now, standing on his shoulders and looking out at the sunset from the rooftop. You aren’t worried about anything because he’s there and he’s got you, so why should you? Your brother is simply the best.

Dammit! One of your hands reaches up and rubs at your forehead, trying to soothe away the pain. Whenever you have memories, they always being you pain. Headaches, mostly, and a few have led to head-splitting migraines. That's the price you've got to pay for them and you'll gladly deal with all of it. Medication doesn't help these, so there's no point in heading for the medicine cabinet.

"Dabe? Dabe, you got ouchie?" Bro has removed one of his hands from your hair is now patting your head. Well, it's a little more like petting, but you won't call it that.  
"Yeah, little man, but don't worry. I'm okay." Your right arm goes up and his hand grabs onto your much larger one as best as it can. His head lies down on top of yours and his hand squeezes yours before letting go. "Dabe , I wanna sweep with you," his little voice murmurs into your hair. You tell him that'd be just fine.

He does this sometimes. You've tried asking him why he wants to stay with you and he just shakes him head and clings onto your leg. One time you even told him he could stay up a little later and play with his toys while you studied, but when you tried handing him the thin plastic sword, he started crying. It's not like you cared if he wanted to sleep in your bed, lots of kids sleep with their parents for comfort. It's just you really don't get why the kid started crying that night.

You head throbs with pain as the image of a much older Bro appears in your mind, a sword sticking out of his chest. You wonder if the kid can remember his old self, or alternate self, or whatever those memories are. He's little and it could've been he was afraid of monsters under his bed and didn't want to say. You don't really know, but you don't ask him either. Seeing him cry like that, so afraid and all he wanted was you to protect him. The kid was up in your arms in seconds, hands clutching your shirt and tears leaving little dark spots on your shoulder. Ever since then you haven't questioned him and just let him stay with you.

 

The next morning, he's a sleepy little bundle of orange shuffling into the kitchen.  
"Dabe, I want pantakes. Pantakes, Daaaaaaabe." He yawns and rubs at his eyes. Luckily, his 'pantakes' are almost ready. Not even a minute later the last one is on top of the small stack. Bro's standing by his chair but his eyes are shut and his mouth is hanging open just enough to let a little drool roll out. He must have been a little sleepier than you thought. Grabbing a napkin, you wipe it from his chin and set him in his own seat. He wakes up pretty quickly and starts eating his breakfast. Leaning against the counter, you sip at your steaming coffee. The kid knows the routine. You'll eat breakfast and watch one cartoon together. After that, he can play with his toys or keep watching cartoons while you do your online schooling. He knows not to bother you unless it's important. This time you're trying to keep your attention on your film history class notes when the little guy decides he's had enough of playing alone for today. "Bro, calm down. Just a few more minutes, okay?" He pouts and crosses his arms, yet nods his head anyways. "Thanks little guy. I'll try to hurry up." Instead of answering, he plops back down on the sofa and waits.

It doesn't take too much longer before your notes are completed. Considering you don't have much else to do today, and that your other class’s work wont’s be up quite a while, you decide going out would be pretty nice. Bro ends up in a white t-shirt and orange shorts with his light up tennis shoes. The glasses hardly come off, so it’s not like he’s without them. It's pretty hot today and you don't want to be left carrying a tired baby, so you get out the stroller. Bro's lower lip pokes out to show just how he feels about it, but it doesn't matter. He still gets in the thing and you two ride the elevator down to the bottom floor. Passing by the worker at sign-in, you give each other silent waves from across the lobby. The entrance doors open automatically once you've gotten close enough and you're thankful for the shades as the bright sun beats down on your face.

 

"Well, go on then!" Your blood freezes at that voice. You know that voice. Oh my god, Dave, don't freak out. Your walk has taken you by an old appliance store and, wanting momentary relief from the Texas heat, you two venture in. It's not like you aren't actually interested in the stuff; in fact, you're seriously considering throwing away the awful T.V in the living room for this one in front of you. There are several around it, and they're all playing some old courtroom show. You need to know who said that. The ghost of a pain graces your head. Your pulse starts racing and you feel the sweat start to bead at your forehead. That is, until you hear the next part.  
"Judge Stone, if you wouldn’t mind I’d like to…” is all you need to hear to stop listening. Your pulse slows down back to normal and the sweat makes you feel cold in here.  
"Dabe? Dabe, what's dat?" Bro asks, pointing to the show on the television in front of you.

"That's just some old court show, Bro. Don't worry about it." Yeah. Just some old court show with a silly old actor on it. Didn't he die not too long ago? Oh well. You don't really remember considering you've found Bro, your life has been especially busy. You're about to walk off when you see 'Judge Johnny Stone played by John Crocker' on the screen. There's something so familiar about his face; it's somewhat off, maybe older than you'd expect, but you know that face. It sends chills down your spine and fills your stomach with unease and nausea.

You're just standing there, watching him and taking in nothing else. His voice, face, and those awful buckteeth and glasses combination are so familiar, and yet you've never seen anyone like that before in your life. It's so frustrating because nothing is coming up from the depths of your memory to enlighten you. It's so upsetting that, at first, you don't even notice Bro's arm hanging out of the stroller and tugging on your pants leg.

"Dabe, I wanna go!" he whines at you. Shaking your head to clear it of Johnny Stone, you walk calmly out of the store. This is your day out with your baby brother. You'll take him to the playground for a while and then probably go home. Besides, you know who to look at now; you'll have plenty of time to remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! so obviously i'm going to have to change some of the next few chapters up a bit after the recent updates, but it'll be manageable!! sorry guys, i meant to get this out earlier but i somehow ended up being very busy this long weekend?? oh well. also i did have something else planned for the next two chapters that will still be going here the same way!! although i must say, the only way i can think to keep this going as is and then add in after the update means this might end up getting a little sad in about three? four? chapters, so i'm just letting you know right now! But, i never intended for this to be sadstuck, and i've already got the ending figured out and personally it doesn't seem sad, more like hopeful? but if anything like this changes again, i'll just let you guys know!! (plus i meant to have this out yesterday, but instead it got saved as a draft. oops.)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!! i'm trying to go through and clean up the other chapters for this before i post them! anyways, i've already put this story up in other places and am currently working on finishing chapter five! once i go through the other three chapters, i'll put them up here but it'll probably take a little while considering i'm very busy right now!! anyways, i hope you guys enjoy it!! and sorry, these chapters are pretty short! :>
> 
> (And yes, these are song lyrics for the titles. i couldn't think of anything better and a lot of songs just remind me of dave so they'll just take over the titles for this)


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